


now she's watching him with those eyes

by bellalou5



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, F/M, Jessie's Girl AU, Mild Sexual Content, Partying, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellalou5/pseuds/bellalou5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Percy has a crush, and Luke totally knew about it. But then there's a party and tingly liquid in his shot glasses and oh. There's Annabeth, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now she's watching him with those eyes

**Author's Note:**

> :: jessie's girl AU with a twist. (it's nothing like the song ok) written for my friend jess's 18th birthday.

Okay, but seriously, Luke  _knew_  about Percy's crush.

It wasn't like he was subtle about it—openly gaping as Annabeth Chase shuffled down the hallway each early morning with a Styrofoam cup of Dunkin' in her right hand, holding onto the thick strap of her backpack with the left. He'd never failed to gush about her win of the girls' lacrosse team's most important game of the season (Cough—three years ago—Cough) even going as far to say that she "made" the team in its golden age.

On few occasions, Percy had even told his best friend, "Today's gonna be the day, Luke. I'll finally ask her out. She'll say yes, we'll grow up, get married, and have a hundred babies and they'll all be named Percy and Annabeth."

(It didn't happen, but that was besides the point,  _really_.)

Luke  _knew_. Totally. He had to.

That was why it had felt like a slap to the face when Luke had told Percy of his new relationship status. No—not even a slap. Maybe something closer to getting the wind knocked out from his chest. At first, Percy had been supportive, clapping him on the back and asking who the "lucky lady" was.

The answer had taken him off guard, obviously. Percy balked when Luke said Annabeth's name. Disbelief was the next emotion Percy felt, of course, because surely it was a joke, right? There must have been another Annabeth attending their school. Because Luke could never— _would_  never wrong Percy that way.

It was with an audible squeak that he felt something like hope curdle and spoil in his chest, when the lady herself arrived to greet her new boyfriend in a way that Percy had been dreaming of since  _at least_  the seventh grade. His whimper wasn't nearly as pathetic as the betrayal scrawled along his trembling bottom lip. Because it was indeed  _Annabeth Chase_  that pecked Percy's ( _so-called_ ) best friend on the lips.

Luke's excuse was that she had came onto  _him_ , not the other way around. ( _"No, no, no Percy. Of course not. I'd never do that to you."_ ) Luke simply couldn't resist her, for their chemistry had been undeniable.

Sure, it was explained far less eloquently in reality, but Percy couldn't stomach the story without modifying it a bit, finding more of a fairytale ending – the likes of which he'd not dare disrupt.

Percy knew never to mess with fairytales – else it came to bite you in the ass. Fate, a cruel bitch mother, she was.

Now, if you had never been graced with the absolute delight of a hopeless crush, you might not understand what Percy felt the coming weeks of Annabeth and Luke's progressing relationship. Some might think it was completely bonkers of him to have remained friends with Luke, and honestly, it  _had_  been hard. But he wasn't one to hold a grudge – Luke was his best friend, and Percy had missed his window of chance with the girl he lo- ...Cared for. Cared for...and stuff.

With a lot of teeth-gritting and lump-swallowing, Percy was able to find it in himself to forgive Luke. Annabeth was irresistible, a fact that could help him sympathize with his friend's acts of weakness.

But there was still a tiny, unforgiving thread of betrayal dangling above Percy's head. On rougher nights, he found himself staring at the ceiling of his small bedroom, the little glowy stars his mom had stuck up there were peeling and dusty in his vision. Those darker evenings, a bitter part of Percy – something alike to a little green monster – couldn't be contained. Because,  _goddammit_ , he had liked Annabeth  _first_.

By either coincidence or fate, Percy didn't know, it was one of those rueful nights that he was informed of a party. Resentful in his mopey mood, he agreed to attend far too easily, without much room for forethought. It had been just the beginning of a night made full of destructive decisions.

Percy already felt dreadful and oversensitive by the time he arrived, and the alcohol now steadily flowing through his veins certainly didn't help. It was his third shot of something  _tingly_  when he found himself on the dance floor, hands on the waist of some red-head with paint-splattered jeans as she ground against him in  _awesome_ rolling movements.

Maybe a small part of him knew he'd regret this, that he was still hung up on another beauty with blonde curls and far nicer hips to press upon, but he ignored that part of him, dousing it with a fourth shot of liquid fire when handed the tiny tubular glass.

Well, he  _almost_  was able to ignore it.

"Percy?" a voice shouted over the catchy pop song he knew he'd be humming later. "Is that you?"

He knew her voice. Every time.

"Annabeth!" He spun toward her, the red-head in his lap practically flying forward from the motion. She landed into the arms of another willing dude and seemed content to stay. Percy shrugged, focusing as best as he could manage on the blonde in front of him.

She held a bottle of water in her hand. "You're drunk, Jackson." It was a statement, like she had no doubt about it. "Have some water."

He stared at the plastic bottle of Poland Springs she was handing him, dewy clouds forming on the sides and disappearing where her fingers met the cold shell. "I don't want it," he told her honestly, crossing his arms and shrugging again.

Annabeth rolled her eyes and shoved it forward, refusing to take no for an answer.

Grabbing the bottle—because this was Annabeth and he'd not dare refuse her will—he looked around the thumping room as he unscrewed the cap. "You're a beautiful person, Annabeth. Like...on the outside  _and_  the inside. So nice to people and stuff. You know?"

He hadn't meant to say it... Any of it, really. The offending sentences had formed in the privacy of his head, and then his mouth had blurted it for her to hear. His cheeks would have colored if he had actually regretted the action, but whatever was in that shot glass took away that particular function.

She laughed. "Thanks, Perce." - He wasn't floating at the use of a nickname,  _no_ , you have no proof - "Drink the water."

His tongue came out to trace the ring of plastic at the mouth of the bottle, but he didn't yet feel like taking a sip. He had something to say first; something he'd been pondering endlessly for the last few weeks. "What's so great about Luke, anyway?" He popped his tongue out of the bottle and forced his vision not to swim. "I'd treat you like a princess, An'beth. I wanted to so badly. Why does  _Luke_  get that? He doesn't deserve it."

Annabeth swallowed. "Percy, I told you to drink the water. You're not thinking right."

"I'm thinking perfectly good!" he protested, though placating her by bringing the bottle to his lips for a thick gulp of the cool liquid. "I've never told you what I feel."

It was obvious to him that she was getting nervous, but he didn't know why. He only wanted to talk to her, and he couldn't find what was so wrong in that. "Why don't we go somewhere else, Perce? I don't think it's best to be out here right now."

She ended up leading him upstairs, and they found an unused bedroom. Even in his inebriated state, he still knew what happened in bedrooms at high school parties. And he was disappointed to think they had really only come up to talk. Like... _actually_  talk. Not even as an excuse. A pout curled his lips when he plopped onto the bed, waiting for Annabeth to join him after she locked the door.

"Percy," she sighed, coming to sit by his feet. "Drink the water, please. I want to know that you're being honest with me."

"I am," he said, instinctively making a grab for her hand. Her eyes widened a little and he drank some more water just in case she was about to get mad at him. Nope, he didn't want that. "I just don't understand."

Gray eyes softened and Percy thought he might have imagined her gripping his hand back. "What don't you understand?" she asked gently.

"Why, after years of me pining over you and practically kissing the ground you walk on, Luke was the one you chose."

It was clear to Percy that the water hadn't begun to take its intended effect on him yet. With as much as he drank, he didn't have the ability to partake in mindful thinking. He might have stopped stuttering, but it'd take a little longer for his conscious to return. The direct result being...well,  _this_.

"Percy...what are you talking about?" Her voice was strained and he definitely didn't make up the squeeze of her hand this time.

Even he could hear how heartbroken he sounded. "Why him?"

Her free hand came up to scrub her face. She was scowling. "This is what I'm talking about – why I'd rather you be sober right now."

"Just because I'm being more open doesn't mean I'm lying," he snapped. "Stop making me seem like some kinda criminal because I drank a little." He dropped her hand.

Throat crackling – not with emotion, of course not – he brought the bottle of water to his lips again, chugging until the container was empty.

"I'll get you some more," Annabeth muttered too quickly, disappearing into the attached bathroom. She was back after a few minutes, shaky hands thrusting the bottle to him again. He drank some more.

And it was silent for a long time.

Percy took sips of his water every few seconds, and luckily began to feel a little more like himself with every passing minute. The alcohol in his system helped him not to feel awkward with the lack of conversation between them. She sat to his left, playing with her fingers or tugging at loose strings on the blanket beneath them. She remained quiet. His mind slowly returned piece by piece, and the thumping loud music and shouts of his drunken classmates outside the door was steadily starting to become more annoying.

It had taken a while, but Annabeth was the first to speak. "So...You like me?"

He tried not to scoff. "Yeah. For a while now."

"Now  _I_  don't understand."

Something like heat rose in Percy. Under normal circumstances, he was a lot better at reigning in his emotions. But these weren't normal circumstances. He wasn't as sober as he usually was.

"How someone like me could even hope to have a chance with you? Yeah, believe me, I don't understand either." While he was feeling a lot less intoxicated, Percy still felt potent sureness sweep inside him. It was easier to feel mad like this, with his conscious still making its slow journey back.

Her expression mirrored the same hurt he felt, and guilt might have taken to his stomach. He honestly couldn't tell how he felt anymore. Some part of his brain was telling him,  _This is why we don't drink, Perc_ _y._

"No, that's not what I meant," she explained, reaching for him again. He let her, only because he kind of missed holding her hand. "I just...didn't think you liked me."

"Why would you think that?" His head dropped onto the headboard behind him and he let his eyes close. At least the walls had stopped spinning, though he was sure he'd be sticking his face in the toilet bowl soon enough. Percy never had been one to hold his drink well.

She squeezed his hand again. "Luke's your best friend?"

He grimaced. "Yeah."

Her voice was tight as she continued. "Then I don't know why he told me that you said I wasn't your 'type' or whatever."

Green eyes sprung open almost comically, and he stared at her.

" _What_?"

She shook her head, expression lost. "Before we got together – I asked about you, and he said something like you thinking I was a nerd or something." The tips of her ears colored red and she bit her lip. "He said you were wrong, and that he thought better of me. He said he had feelings for me all along."

Too many thoughts rampaged inside of his admittedly still murky mind, and it was hard to focus on all the emotions he felt. So, he plucked one from the mess and ran with it. Indignation colored his voice.

"But you  _are_  a nerd!" Percy protested. "And there's nothing wrong with that! I  _like_  it! I- He's wrong, Annabeth! You don't have to be better, because there's nothing wrong with what you are! I never said anything about you not being 'my type.' I don't even  _have_  a type!"

Her eyelids shut tight. "I didn't know he was lying, Percy. Really, I didn't."

If he had thought the resentment had hurt before, he was a weak man. Because the ache in his chest was pain he could only compare to heartbreak. His  _best friend_  had sabotaged his only chance with the one girl he had feelings for. Luke had  _betrayed_  him. And Percy was  _mad_.

"What. The. Fuck," he muttered dangerously, as the new information saturated itself into his mind. He was realizing that, all this time, Luke had been a lousy friend. And an even lousier boyfriend. While Annabeth had thought Percy was a stuck-up jerk, Luke had been picking up the pieces of the destruction he caused, in favor of his own.

He found himself scrambling up from the bed, eyes set on the door he'd probably have to kick down if he couldn't get the tiny lock flipped up in his slightly hazy state. The new-found anger fueled him though; it helped to clear his mind. Percy could imagine how Luke would look after he was done with him.

But the anger caught; shocked and snuffed out as Annabeth roughly wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, trying her damn hardest to pull him back. "Percy, stop! You have the right to be... _furious_ , but you're starting to scare me! Just calm down!"

It was hard to stay latched onto his anger with Annabeth Chase's arms around him. He slumped, still shaking, but letting her tug him back onto the bed. She laid him down, hands pinning his arms to the mattress as she waited with heavy breath to see if he was calm enough yet.

"You're not going to kill anyone if I let you go, right?"

He grunted, eyes burning and teeth clenched.

With a sigh, Annabeth swung a knee over his thigh, effectively locking him to the bed. "You're not going anywhere with that look on your face," she mumbled, more to herself.

The hard lines of determination on her face softened when her eyes finally caught his. Something formed in them; the gray iris swirled and thinned, the black of her pupils beginning to take over. Her hands ran slowly up his arms where she was holding them, until they landed on his shoulders.

"I didn't know you liked me. Things could have been so different."

Percy let out a harsh breath. "I'm not sure about that. If I'd asked you out sooner, like I said I was gonna, we wouldn't be in this mess right now."

"This doesn't have to be a mess," she whispered. Hesitance was clear in her expression. "We both know how we feel. Why should we let Luke hold us back any longer? He's wasted enough of our time and energy."

He didn't say anything. Her position on top of him became apparent; with her knees on either side of his thighs...his senses seemed to tune into every place her body touched his.

"How do you feel?"

He swallowed, knowing what she was really asking. Whether he was still drunk or not. "I'm better."

She watched him for a few seconds, studying him. Her eyes took on a half-lidded look and she bent a little closer to him to whisper her next words. "Tell me if you want me to stop...okay?"

He nodded probably, he couldn't remember. Annabeth's hands came off his shoulders, traveling up his neck until they cupped his cheeks and pulled his face closer to hers. Her breath blew warm on his face, smelling of popcorn and pink bubble gum.

When she kissed him, his eyes stayed open for at least five seconds before he realized that it was actually happening. His hands fumbled as they came up and weaved through her arms to cradle her face as well. His stomach jumped up into his throat and he let out a ragged breath against her lips. Every part of his body burned, borderline painful.

His emotions were hard to pin point, being that they came in so strongly with all the drinking he had done just a while ago. It only made the moment squeeze his chest even tighter. This was what he had wanted for years. And he wasn't about to question it. She hadn't been the one drinking, and Percy knew he'd dreamt up this fantasy far too many times in his adolescence to put a stop to it now. Especially when she made tugs at his T shirt.

They moved...fast. His shirt was only the beginning of the clothing to be thrown across the room. When he imagined doing this all those times before, he'd been far off from reality, thinking he'd take her slow and sweet. It was almost funny to him now. But he couldn't bring himself to be disappointed because he loved every second of what they were doing. Whatever way they did this, it was perfect because  _she_  was perfect. She was what mattered to him above anything else.

Her lips came off his when she pulled at the strings of her sundress, throwing it from her body without a care. Percy's eyes were saucers as he took in the sight of her exposed chest. And  _no_ , his late night dreams had not done her justice, in case you were wondering.

Once the restricting garment was somewhere by the bathroom door, she began to trail kisses hot and hard down his neck until she reached the bare skin of his chest. Her hands moved in eager jerks, frantically trying to reach every inch of skin in her possession. She finally rested them in his own, twining their fingers together as she pressed her chest into his. He was sure he could have exploded just then.

Something like this brought on a haze of its own; the alcohol gone from his mind, taken over by the overwhelming sense of desire. He'd let her take him in anyway she wanted. She was in control and he was completely at her mercy – even when they had managed to rid themselves of the rest of their clothing and she was clumsily digging through a stranger's nightstand drawers for some type of protection and they were laughing together. It was awkward and uncomfortable and scary, but Percy was having  _fun_. And when she had finally found a rubber to roll onto him, they blushed just the same. She sunk onto his arousal, nervous laughter bubbling up and layering over the sounds of the party outside.

No choice but to let her take the reigns as she moved on top of him, it surprised Percy how he couldn't have been more turned on by that fact. His view was mouth watering, soft curves and pale skin was all he could see; and Annabeth shook her head as she saw him gawk. "You're drooling," she drawled, lifting their twined hands and pressing them into the pillows as she came down for another kiss.

He could only laugh, laying his head back against the scratchy cotton fabric of the pillow. Even as things got more heated and the laughter became few and far between, his eyes never found the strength to leave her face. Because it shocked him every time just  _who_  was riding on top of him.  _Annabeth_. Percy didn't think of his best friend's betrayal, or the fact that his mom would probably be able to smell the alcohol on his clothes when he got home; he just let himself get lost in her—get lost  _with_  her.

He didn't last long, embarrassingly enough, but Annabeth didn't seem to mind. She mouthed at his ear lobe, guiding him through his finish as he groaned her name. And it was in that moment that he swore he could see the same glowy stars from his bedroom ceiling imprinted on the inside of his eyelids. He was gone.

Being with her was every great thing he couldn't have imagined. Especially when he was finally allowed to take over, making up for his early finish by bringing her off with his inexperienced, yet enthusiastic fingers, until she was just as gone as he was.

///

It was after they'd spent themselves that they lay together, hands clasped and smiles goofy, when Percy's false sense of confidence began to dissolve. Worry started to creep in as the intoxication deserted him; left him there to rest in his own unmade bed.

This had been the most reckless thing he'd ever done – and God, wasn't he supposed to regret it? He  _couldn't_. But it wasn't like he hadn't known what he was doing in the first place. This was his mess. His  _great, fun, satisfying_  mess.

Was she going to stay with Luke? Did she regret cheating on her boyfriend? Should he confess what happened? – No. There were a lot of things his best friend kept from him. And Percy hadn't intentionally leveled the metaphorical playing field.

Because it  _wasn't_  a playing field. Annabeth was a person and she had been deceived just as wrongly as Percy had. This wasn't a game, but he was afraid Luke would think this action was awfully close to evening the score. That's not what Percy had intended, not at all.

He wanted her. He only wanted her. And he'd felt that way for years.

His body stiffened as he tried to imagine what Annabeth was thinking. If  _he_  was the one being played here. Was this an act of rebellion? Formed from the hurt she felt at being lied to? Were there ulterior motives to their time spent together? Her intentions could just as easily have been to hurt Luke, than to share something with Percy.

But he got his answers when her phone rang.

Eight times consecutively.

She ignored them, and he briefly wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then his own phone bleated out its harsh tone and he looked over to the nightstand where it lay, screen up. Luke's name appeared.

"He's looking for you," Percy whispered, pushing his nose into the back of her neck and tightening his hold on her hand against her stomach from where they lay on their sides, bare bodies pressed flush together.

She snorted softly. "Good luck to him."

Percy hesitated. "Do you want to talk to him?"

For a moment, she was quiet. And Percy's heart crawled into his throat. "I don't want to talk to him when I'm with you," she admitted. "We can deal with all of that mess later." Turning her body around and now facing his, she tugged the blanket tighter around them as if to lock themselves away from the world. "For now, it'll just be us."

His chest swelled and he ducked his head. "Okay," he whispered. Because suddenly, the weight of the night didn't feel nearly as heavy as he remembered. Everything seemed a little easier to deal with, having someone willing to stick with him. Annabeth was on his side. And he was on hers.

And, really, he thought that was how it should have been from the start.

 

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday jess! enjoy your BMO tattoo


End file.
